Factions
by Trick N. Zwei
Summary: Some short tidbits about the factions you fight for in Titanfall 2.


**Disclaimer: I make no claims of owning Titanfall, only the OC that appear in this fanfic. Don't sue me, I'm really poor.**

* * *

 **Marauder Corps: Fight For Freedom**

Sarah Briggs watched the planet through the reinforced glass of her ship. It was a place of lush vegetation and gorgeous blue waters, much like earth, or so she had heard. Even with the war going on, there was no shortage of new discoveries being uncovered on the Frontier. This planet was one of the many that had also been recently uncovered. Aside from the beauty of its landscape and abundant resources, there was one other thing that attracted the militia's attention to it.

"IMC presence has been confirmed on the surface, Ma'am!" saluted one of her ensigns. "It appears our sources were correct."

The IMC's hand could reach even to the edge of the Frontier it would seem. The militia had led the chase for the Remnant Fleet since their victory years ago. Even though the militia was now at an advantage, that could soon turn around the longer this war drags on. Reinforcements from the Core Systems will take some time to arrive, but they will eve arrive.

Sarah nodded. "Prepare for titanfall! I want them to be ready as soon as we are in range to drop!"

At the Hangar bay, she stood straight and waited for the pilots and crewmen to gather. Pilots had finished holstering their guns and checking their jumpjets, already suited up with their helmets on, while the crewmen started descending from the catwalks after making final preps on the titan and drop systems. They stood at attention after everyone had gathered.

"We've come a long way, everyone," said Sarah, her voice strong and clear. "We're no longer the ones running and hiding from IMC. We aren't the ones. They are." She pointed down at the planet. "Our fight began a long time ago. When the IMC stepped on the rights of us colonists without restraint. They dragged us from our homes and laid waste to our home worlds just so they could harvest its resources without delay. There were many who did not agree with them. Many who died voicing those thoughts…"

There was silence as everyone's mind were on those people whose lives were ended long before their fight had begun. They knew well that it took the deaths of more than a few before the birth of the militia. It was because of those few that the remaining ones had to organize themselves if they wanted to survive.

"But now," continued Sarah. "Now our voices are stronger. They couldn't hear us—No, they chose to ignore us! With our voices combined, we will make them hear the words that the people of the Frontier have been shouting all this time!" She paused and gazed at the men and women listening to her. "This is our home, _not_ yours. It is not us who will leave, it is you!"

"Damn right!" shouted one of the pilots. He was soon joined by the entirety of the people. They cheered and roared in agreement.

Sarah waited for the excitement to subside a little before continuing, "We fight for our friends, our families, our homes! We fight for the freedom of our Frontier!"

The loud cheering amongst the militia was cut short when the announcement echoed throughout the hangar for pilots to board their titans. The ship was finally in range of the planet. Sarah put her own helmet over her head and entered her titan's cockpit, readying for the drop.

"Pilots, your titans are ready," came the broadcast over her coms. "Ready on your orders, Ma'am!"

Sarah took a moment to exhale and close her eyes. She knows that in every battle, that not every one of her people may come back alive. But still… she hoped for the best.

"Standby for titanfall!"

* * *

 **Apex Predators: A Deal's a Deal**

"Halt!"

An IMC grunt raised his hand at Blisk and his Apex Predators. It was surprising that they encountered a security checkpoint all the way out in the boonies of the backwater planet they were on. This place was one of the remaining planets the IMC still had control over, but it wasn't one of their most valuable ones.

"What seems to be the problem here?" asked Blisk. "Me and my boys have got full clearance."

"We have our orders to search all parties leaving the city," said a gruff looking trooper who was most likely in charge. "Won't take more than a few minutes. You mercs won't lose that much money from just this now, would you?"

Two of the IMC grunts beside him began to look over Blisk and his people behind him. It didn't take them long before they cleared everyone and reached the very back.

"Sergeant!" shouted one of the IMC grunts. "We've found him! He's over here!" He pushed over a middle-aged man to the ground.

"No!" A little girl, who couldn't have been more than eight years old, ran over to the man. "You can't take my daddy!"

"Well, well." The IMC sergeant knelt to get a good look at the miserable man on the ground. "Looks like you didn't get very far now, did you, doctor?"

"Care to explain what this is all about?" asked Blisk. "I can't say I appreciate having my client being roughed around under my nose."

"Client?" said the sergeant. "Ah, I see. I guess the doctor here had hoped hiring you mercs would make it easy to leave. This man is wanted for desertion of his duties."

"Please…" begged the doctor while holding his sobbing daughter. "I just want to live an honest life with my daughter. I don't want to go back there."

"Oi newbie!" Blisk looked to a pilot behind him. "What did I say about verifying clients first before taking a contract?"

"Sorry, boss," apologized the pilot. "I hadn't looked into it too well since it was just a simple escort. We were on our way out of here, so it would have been an easy side job."

Blisk sighed. "What about the paycheck?"

"It's not much, but it's already cleared."

"That was everything I had," said the doctor dispiritedly.

"Isn't that nice." The IMC sergeant patted Blisk on his shoulders. "You get a nice bonus on top of the bounty on his head. Man, it must be nice to be a merc with good luck like yours. Care to split some of that reward to us regular soldiers?"

Blisk sighed once more. "What are you talking about? I've got bad luck today." He took out his knife, grabbed the sergeant behind his neck, and stabbed him in his heart. "Although it's not as bad as yours."

Before the IMC grunts could react, they were quickly gunned down by the rest of the Apex Predators. They couldn't even raise their guns before the pilots had already pulled their triggers.

"…Why?" asked the doctor in disbelief, looking at the dead sergeant.

"I'm not one to break a contract." Blisk cleaned the blood off his knife and sheathed it. "Could have gone with the bounty, but payments already gone through. If it hadn't cleared, I'd have tossed you back myself."

"Thank you."

"I'm contractually obligated," snorted Blisk. He picked up a stuffed toy from the ground, shook the dirt off, then tossed it over to the little girl. "Don't forget your luggage. We'll be boarding our flight on out of here soon."

"Is this really okay, boss?" asked one of his pilots who was checking the bodies of the IMC grunts. "The IMC won't be too thrilled with us."

"They can chew on a lemon for all I care," said Blisk. "Money is money, and we get paid to do a job. Let's just get this over and done with, yeah? I need a stiff one, and I expect so does everyone else. Oi newbie! Drinks are on you when we get out of here. Consider it your remuneration for your fuckup."

* * *

 **Vinson Dynamics: From Ash Renewed**

"Is everything prepared?"

A strict looking man with glasses asked the man beside him. They stood on a moving platform that transported them over the various rooms of Vinson Dynamics general facility hidden away from sight.

"We've gathered a good number of mercenaries as per requested," said his associate. "We've selected only the best and have given them generous pay for their services. The titans are also ready and waiting. In accordance with planning for lost equipment when faced with unpredictable variables of the battlefield, we have made a surplus amount of titans for such cases."

Their platform halted over a deep hole, where it started to descend onto the lower levels of the facility. As their platform moved down, the lights surrounding them had changed from bright white to a dull green.

"Our newly found forces are ready as they can be," said the associate. "The only thing left is the decision on who to lead them."

"That's already been decided."

Their platform stopped as it finally reached its destination. In front of the two, a large vault blocked their path. Painted over the vault doors, Vinson Dynamics could be clearly seen. The glasses wearing man pressed his hand over a console, initiating several beeping sounds that had released the locks on the vault doors.

Stepping inside, they now cross over into a catwalk that hung above pools of water. There laid only a single thing of note at the end of it.

A simulacrum was held by cables attached from the ceilings.

"So there was enough of her to salvage?" asked the associate.

"Not as much as we'd have wanted, but enough for our needs, yes. She has more than the necessary functions to lead our new mercenary troops into battle."

"She is to lead them?" The associate said doubtfully. "I am unsure as to how that would be to success."

"General consensus from the board has already been given." The man adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "Our scientists have also made sure to give her new parameters and orders to coincide with our own objectives. With her on our side, Vinson Dynamics shall make breakthroughs no one thought possible before. Our victory will be assured in her hands."

He punched in a code to a small console nearby. The ceilings hissed as pressure was released. Soon, all cables detached from the simulacrum, causing her to fall to her feet on the catwalk before them. The light in her eyes flickered to life. She held her head up and gazed at the two. The lens of her artificial eyes twisted and turned as they adjusted.

"What is your prime directive?"

"…Focus. Fight. _Win."_

"And all shall fall to Ash," smiled most wickedly the glasses wearing man. "Vinson Dynamics welcomes you to our fold."

* * *

 **Angel City Elites: Looking Through The Bottom Of A Beer Bottle**

"Last round for today, Barker."

The bartender left single bottle of beer on the bar.

"Aw c'mon, Jimmy!" Barker hiccupped just after he had downed his previous bottle. "You- *hic* You know I'm good for it. My boys just got done with a job. Rounding success, it was!" He waved his empty bottle wide through the air. "'Course I thought for sure we'd lose that one, but hey! Happy surprise!"

Jimmy raised his eyebrow at him. "Your boys were the one who told me to cut you off after your sixth. And before you say anything else, yes they paid me to make sure it stays that way."

"Bunch of party-poopers," grumbled Barker before eyeing his last bottle on the bar. "Well… least this is on them, right?" Jimmy nodded. Barker smiled. "It's not an entire loss then. Cheers."

It being his last bottle, Barker didn't chug it down like he usually would. Instead, he took a whisk, then looked at the bottle wistfully.

"You ever thought there's more to life than just this, Jimmy?"

"Aw c'mon, Barker," groaned the bartender. "You know I hate those philosophical drunks. Don't start this with me now just because you're on your last one. I swear I'll kick you out if you do. I don't want to hear none of that crap. Especially ones from you."

Barker laughed. "You know it'll take more than this much to get me _that_ drunk. But no, Jimmy. That wasn't what I meant." His serious expression seemed to have taken his bartender's attention. "You know what me and my boys do, don't you?"

"You're mercs, right?" shrugged Jimmy. "Ones that fight for the militia and freedom of the Frontier and all that. That's about all I know. I'm not one to ask much of my customers, so long as they don't start trouble in my bar and pay their tabs, I don't really much care what they do."

"Aha!" said Barker, pointing his finger at him. "But we're not _just_ mercs. True we do get paid by the militia to fight the good fight against the IMC, but that's not all we do. Our goal, is something much bigger."

"Bigger?" said Jimmy doubtfully. "I think the only thing bigger would be your capacity to hold alcohol."

"Hey!" Barker shook his now half-empty beer bottle at him while still holding his empty one in his other hand. "It's even bigger than that, much as I'd hate to admit."

Barker took another swig of his bottle, leaving only a small mouthful left in his bottle that caused him to frown at the sight of it.

"No one knows how big what we're doing really is," he said. "That's because everyone else is too damn busy with this war. They're not looking for the answers." He poured down the last of his beer down his gut. "We are."

"Right." Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to find out what's really going on, Jimmy," Barker took his two empty bottles and made them into his binoculars. "It may be a bit hazy right now, but I'll see it eventually. You can be sure of that."

"Barker!" Barker turned his beer binoculars over to a pilot who held the door to the bar ajar. "We think we might've gotten something."

Barker dropped his two empty bottles on the counter and joined his comrade. He turned to give one last look at Jimmy and said, "I know you don't like these philosophical bullshit and all, but seeing as I'm heading on out anyway… The truth is out there, Jimmy. We just gotta open our eyes and see it."

* * *

 **The 6-4: What Matters Most**

"Looks like pilots aren't as good as they say they are."

A man stood poise in front of Gates. Most people would probably think that the face of this man was similar to that of rodents after taking a single look at him. Gates hated rats.

"To think it would be this easy to capture you," scoffed the man. "I don't understand how the IMC forces lost so badly in Demeter. If this is the level of pilots the militia have, then it wouldn't even matter if the IMC reinforcements arrive. I could kill those militia pilots by myself."

They had captured Gates when she had stumbled on to their compound. When the alarm sounded near one of their above ground entrances, they had found Gates engaged with a firefight with the sentries. She had apparently tripped one of their sensors and was caught off-guard by the automated defenses. With the arrival of the IMC troops, it didn't take long before their intruder surrendered under a suppressive fire of gunfire.

"Tough words coming from a no name grunt," said Gates.

"Shut it, you." One of the guards behind her smacked from behind with the butt of his rifle. Her hands were tied behind her back with some handcuffs, but she had still managed to prevent herself from stumbling forward.

The ratty faced man came close to her.

"Oh, but I'm not just some no name grunt," he sneered. "Not that your tiny little brain could understand. You have no idea just how important I am, do you?"

Gates remained silent, but kept listening.

"Of course, I probably shouldn't expect any one from the militia would know," continued the man. "You people aren't all that bright. Thinking you could ever get rid of the IMC from the Frontier. How absurd. Smart people like me would know where the real winners stand at the end of this war."

"And just who are you?"

"I'm more important than some grunts on the battlefield," he smirked. "I'm the one who provides them with supplies to churn their war machines, you know? It's not so simple to fight a war with just bodies. Without men like me, the IMC would lose the war solely on attrition."

Gates snorted. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

"And what about you?" asked the man, his face full of derision. "Even if you are a pilot, you're still just a soldier. Some peasant taken from a backwater planet, no doubt. Nothing about you is special. Nothing that you do matters. You are no one."

"I fight for the freedom of the Frontier," proudly said Gates standing up. "But that's not all I am. Like you said, I am a pilot. A soldier. I am someone." The ratty faced man backed off a bit, intimidated by her confidence. "I am part of the 6-4."

The surrounding guards grew anxious at her movements, so they aimed their weapons at her. They could tell the air around her had changed somewhat dangerous, and were now accounting for any hostile movements.

Gates didn't seem to mind them.

"The 6-4's a family—"

A burst of silenced rounds quickly came.

The surrounding guards dropped to the ground. Behind them, militia pilots uncloaked into view. They carried silenced pistols that they had all simultaneously used.

Gates had one of her pilots unlock her cuffs. She also received her helmet that they confiscated from her and put it on. She walked over to their intended target and gladly knocked him out by punching him clean on that dumbstruck rat face of his.

"And we'll kick your arse!" she finished.

* * *

 **Ares Divison: Expendable Resources**

"General Marder."

A young scientist addressed the leader of the Ares Division who was busy looking over the construction of their combat titans from a catwalk. Men and machine were working below them under the scrutinizing gaze of their superior.

"The reports have arrived from yesterday's skirmish," said the scientist after saluting. General Marder nodded to him that he had his attention. "…It was our defeat. We lost more than half our troops and a little more than a quarter of the mercenaries we hired."

"And what of the relevant data?"

The young scientist briefly looked over the reports. "…We've confirmed the information about the Militia's strength and defenses on the planet, however, considering the losses—"

"Then all has proceeded according to my expectations," nodded the General in satisfaction.

"Sir…?"

"The casualties are in line with my previous calculations," said General Marder. "Although, the mercenaries proved to be more sufficiently capable than I had been expecting. I had thought more of them would have failed to return. I will need to factor in their tenacity for survival next time."

"Next time, sir?" questioned the young scientist with disbelief. "With respect, sir, we have just lost a good many people yesterday! And the mercenaries we have now are planning to quit!"

General Marder turned to him with cold eyes and said, "Then double their reward."

The young scientist blinked blankly as he could not seem to understand. General Marder turned away from him and once again looked over those below them. MRVNs soldered over the arms of an Ogre chassis.

"Increase the size of the initial sign-up bonus to attract more mercenaries to our cause. Pay them as much as it takes to build up our losses as soon as possible. Divide them based on their capabilities. I would like to have a better grasp of their skills for the next skirmish."

"But the amount of money that would require is—it would be excessive."

"My Ares Division is not lacking in funding." Hands clasped behind his back, General Marder was unfazed. "I am not ordering you to waste our resources without reason. It is merely trading one resource for another. If it is for the sake of progress, then that resource is expendable."

"Sir, you understand… you are comparing money to human lives?" questioned his subordinate.

"I understand perfectly," answered the General. "Both are abundant. Now, no more questions. Have the next batch of mercenaries ready within the month. I will not tolerate any more delays."

The young scientist left, leaving General Marder to continue overlooking his work. Reflected only in those cold eyes of his were the steel and fire of the assembly line of titans.

"I will bring the future of the human race to the forefront of prosperity… even if I must drag them towards it."


End file.
